


Ice, Ice, Baby

by brooklyn09



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ice Play, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, softsmutsunday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklyn09/pseuds/brooklyn09
Summary: Greg comes home with a bruised and swollen knee from a rough football game. Mycroft finds ice cubes have many therapeutic uses.





	Ice, Ice, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Soft Smut Sunday.

After hanging his jacket in the closet and setting his umbrella by the door, Mycroft headed toward the kitchen. Even though it was a Sunday, he had been called to the office to deal with an urgent matter. That taken care of (and the offending party thoroughly chastised), he returned home looking forward to a few hours of relaxation before Greg was expected home from his footy game. A few of Greg’s mates got together on the weekend for a pick up game or two at the local park. Mycroft sometimes went to watch, although it wasn’t one of his favorite pasttimes. He thought the participants were a little rough for a pick up game meant to be “for fun”. He’d hate to see how rough it would be if they were seriously competing. More often than not, Greg came home with a bruise or two, and smelling like a locker room. But it made him happy, so Mycroft tried to be supportive. 

Mycroft entered the kitchen and was surprised to find Greg, still in his shorts and t-shirt, rooting around in the freezer. 

“Hello there." 

Greg startled, dropping a bowl full of ice cubes on the floor. 

"Geesh Myke, way to scare a guy!” exclaimed Greg, gathering his wits about him. “Where have you been? " 

"The office, resolving an issue. What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing, ” replied Greg, as he bent to gather the ice off the floor. He let out a hiss, and grabbed at his knee. 

“Gregory, are you all right?” asked Mycroft, moving closer. He bent down, taking a look at Greg’s knee. It was swollen and scraped, with dirt and pieces of grass embedded in the raw, abraded area. He moved his fingers toward it, causing Greg to pull back quickly. 

“No touching! It hurts!” At Mycroft’s surprised look to Greg’s sharp tone, Greg apologized. “Sorry love, didn’t mean to be short. It’s just really sensitive. I did a number on it." 

"Do you need medical attention?” asked Mycroft, peering closer at the injured area. 

“No, I think some ice will relieve the swelling. Can you give me a hand?" 

"How about laying down on the sofa, and we can prop your leg up on some pillows.” Mycroft let Greg lean against him and ushered him to the sofa. Once Greg was settled, Mycroft returned to the kitchen for the ice and a flannel and returned post-haste. 

Mycroft sat on the coffee table next to the sofa, and placed the flannel full of ice on Greg’s knee. Greg initially tensed at the temperature, but eventually welcomed the numbness. It was better than the throbbing. 

“Go ahead and say it,” Greg sighed. “I’m too old for this kind of thing." 

"I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort. I know you enjoy letting off some steam with your friends. It’s actually probably very good for you. You are very fit for your age. " 

Greg waited for the ‘but’, and he wasn’t disappointed. 

"But, I just wish you’d try to be more careful. I worry is all. I’d hate to see you get terribly hurt." 

"I’m fine love. Just a little bruise. Tomorrow I’ll be right as rain." 

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow, indicating he very much doubted that, but he let the matter drop. 

Greg sat up and pulled his sweaty, sticky shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. "Phew. I’m warm. Is the heat on in here?" 

"It may be. It is still Spring, you know. The nights get chilly.” Pausing, Mycroft added, “I know a way to cool you off though." 

"Yeah?” asked Greg, lifting his eyebrows. 

Mycroft removed one of the ice cubes from the flannel pouch and laid it on Greg’s chest. Greg’s torso contracted with the touch. 

“Ooh, that’s cold." 

"Hmm,” hummed Mycroft, sliding the ice cube down the center of Greg’s chest, towards his stomach, leaving a trail of wetness in it’s wake. He slid the cube back up Greg’s torso, gently sliding it over each nipple, causing them to constrict in pleasure. Mycroft leaned over and lapped at the trail of water with his tounge. He looked up at his husband, meeting the hooded eyes that stared back at him, and smiled. 

Mycroft returned to his task of tracing meandering patterns across Greg’s chest and abdomen with the remaining cubes. He unfastened Greg’s pants, and slid a cube down along his cock and behind his balls, before taking him into his mouth. Greg’s smell was intoxicating, his strong musk stirring Mycroft’s own cock. He sucked and fondled Greg to completion, cleaning him off with the wet flannel. 

“Wow. That was…. Wow. I need to get injured more often I think. C'mere and let me return the favor." 

Mycroft smiled fondly at his husband. "Maybe later. I’ll take a rain check for now. Let’s get you into the bath so you can relax the remainder of the night and let your knee rest." 

Mycroft motioned for Greg to put his hands around Mycroft’s neck, and he gently eased him off the sofa and supported his weight as Greg hobbled to their room. 

"Thanks love, for taking care of me. I’d be lost without you.”

“It goes both ways, dear. I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do for me. It’s what a marriage is, helping one another. These moments, giving care and comfort, are among the most special to me that we share. I never really thought I’d have the opportunity to care for someone this way. Which is not to say I want you to continue to play football like a gladiator. We need your knees in good shape. They’re a vital part of 'our’ extra curricular activities.”

“That they are,” winked Greg, leaning in for a kiss.


End file.
